the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
peanut noodles and crisis points ~ October 10, 2001 - 3:10 a.m. I'm up too late again... it wouldn't matter except that we've got to get up early and go look at a house. ozone and I are looking for a place. yes, I'm breaking a lot of my own rules with this one. of course, he already owns half of this lovely house where I've been staying in san jose. but I can't live in san jose. and, he's come to realize, neither can he. so we're looking for a place in the mountains, preferably in boulder creek. something big enough that we can each have our own room, our own space. and there is a part of me that wonders if I'm crazy, of course. I told him tonight, you know, this is harder than anything I've done in years. his lack of communication skills, his deep difficulty in deciphering and expressing his feelings, his self-absorption and insensitivity to my needs. it all conspires to leave me feeling battered and sore, and exhausted from the effort of just getting him to talk to me. but then there's these moments of grace. us, together, tonight, his arms wrapped around me talking-- really talking-- after I finally lost my shit. after he said the wrong thing at the wrong time and I just lost it, the bowl of peanut noodles smashing to the carpet before I even realized that it had left my hands. one of those crisis moments that breaks down all the walls. and then we were talking-- really talking, he finally able to talk about his feelings, tell me what he needs, and I finally able to cry and let myself fall apart in his arms. there are times when I think I'm teaching him to be human. but no, we are all human-- I'm teaching him to love, to heal, to grow, to reach outside of himself, to care for his fellow humans. and I'm learning, too-- learning patience, learning which ragged edges of my soul still need healing, learning to let myself ask for what I need. and he is growing, he is learning, and each time I see tears on his cheeks I know we are getting somewhere. it feels good to have committed to something this hard. does that make any sense? I believe in who he can be. as long as he's still growing and it's still worth it to me, I'm here. I've decided to have faith in the fact that when it's no longer worth it, I'll know it's time to go. so yeah, we're gonna go look for a house. something big enough to share. a place in the mountains, where we can both have room to grow. blind faith and wild fates... I'm hoping for the best.
(((rings))) |